Somewhere lost within his life
Are the treasures of his dreams.
In the day, they sing in the forest,
While at night, they swing on the trees.
In the summer they flourish,
In the winter they die.
In others' minds, they're great,
But in his, they are not so high.
He's living in a state of mind
That's made of broken dreams.
He's living in a tortured state.
He's not living at all, so it seems.
His life makes up his dreams, and so
His dreams make up his life.
The truth cuts deep into the dreams.
Oh Reality, you are a knife!
But somewhere in tomorrow's haze,
He knows he'll wake up and find
That the dreams he is living are broken,
And so they will break his mind.